We Are The Requiem
by Stark Prince
Summary: ASOFAI AU - Robb left his family to walk his own path in life and met Jon along the way. A dangerous secret that Eddard is keeping close to his heart could destroy them... and the rest of the Stark family.
1. Chapter 1

**We Are The Requiem**

 **Robb I: Made For One**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _A Song of Ice and Fire_ or _Game of Thrones_.

 **Author's Note:** Hi there, this is my first attempt at writing this kind of story, so I'd really appreciate a review to let me know what you think!

Numbers. Robb felt a wily grin creep on his face in the light of the computer monitor. He always felt comfortable with numbers. They were bit-sized summaries of an entire world stripped down to its naked realism. They turned questions into answers and grey into definitive. "This doesn't make any sense" he heard himself mutter, his eyes flying over the endless cells upon cells he called up on the spreadsheet. "Damn that Theon. He doesn't ever check his work." A quick stutter of the keyboard and the egregious slight was corrected. All was right in the world with still a half hour to go before quitting time. Robb Stark eased back into his chair, clicking his way out of the coherent world of figures and into the less than lucid one of words. God damn, he loved his numbers.

Three tiny envelopes stood bright and proud at the top of the project manager's inbox, wantonly radiating their boldness for his attention. The first was from Theon, perfunctory thanks for looking over his invoicing for the third month in a row. "Idiot" Robb whispered darkly, barely acknowledging the sentiment before deleting the email. He moved onto the second, a reminder that the boss would not be in next week and that he would have to be responsible for all queries sent in. It was the third one that singed excitement in his eyes. As he felt his flutter with amorous thunder, he was unable to contain the smile. **"** _ **Hello Mr Stark**_ **"** he read.

" _ **I have to call you Mr Stark because I know how much of a professional you are at work**_ **.** _ **Mr Stark, the reason I am sending you this email is because I am incredibly bored in this presentation. I'm actually recording this lecturer in case I ever have trouble sleeping. Save me Mr Stark – be my knight in shining armour and filthy words.**_

 _ **Yours forever, Snow Leopard**_ **."**

Robb chuckled softly to himself, his fingers reaching out for the keyboard.

" _ **My dearest Snow Leopard – you do realize that you have trouble sleeping when I'm around in any case? Mr Stark cannot wait to see you tonight."**_

Robb allowed himself one last smile before closing out his inbox completely. The last half hour clung to its minutes greedily, but he was used to it by now. Though the mornings sped by, the afternoon hours refused to die quickly – the sandy redhead had found it to be one of the more annoying components of the job, but one he simply had to deal with. He lived from week to week, from the Monday bustle to the Friday slag, all in the hopes of tasting the weekend's sweet glory whilst nestled in the arms of his precious Snow Leopard. It was a rough grind to live on, but Robb found hope in the promise of being able to stand on his own two feet and say that he made something of himself. It was the only bit of arrogance he allowed himself, more of an ethical pride than anything else. Things had not come easily to him and there was still so much he wanted to pour himself into, so many tomorrows he wished to be in all at once. He took it one fight at a time; it made the victories far sweeter.

"Robb?" The project manager cocked his head up at the call of his name, smiling politely at Jerry Mormont's jovial approach. Robb had always wondered why his manager's family had chosen such a medieval last name. He'd been on the cusp of asking many a time, but wisely chose to hold his tongue on each occasion. The projects director had a habit of fiercely guarding his personal life with the utmost of wits, slyly diverting any such attempt to a topic of anything else but himself. Robb had fallen into these traps often when he first started working, but time was a wonderful teacher. He admired his boss for effortlessly separating his work life from the emotional discord that seemed to plague everyone else. There wasn't a hint of personality around the director's office and Robb strongly suspected that he liked it that way. Jerry Mormont lived and breathed his job; there wasn't any other truth to discern.

"I thought you'd be long gone by now" said the older man, beaming pleasantly as he took the seat in front of Robb's desk. "Theon came in and asked if he could leave about two hours ago."

"And leave me stuck with all his work" said Robb with a sour roll of his eyes. "No one can be this stupid; he does this on purpose to annoy me."

"Is the lad besting you already?" asked the director smugly. The redhead shook his head in small increments. "He needs to learn that everything has consequences. He can't ride free forever."

"If I'd known how incompetent he was, I'd have never hired him" said Jerry with an acrid bitterness cutting through his voice. He stared down briefly, as if plucking his next words from the very air itself. "Still, he may prove himself useful for one thing."

"Which is?"

"Testing you." The smile returned to Jerry's face with a particularly corporate abandon. "He's scoping out your limits to see how much you can handle. Granted, it's not intentional, but still. I'm very interested."

"Sir, if that is the only reason you keep him around, you're running a very expensive HR exercise." sighed Robb, running a hand carelessly through his auburn locks. "Couldn't you have me take a psychometric test instead?"

"Robb, you're the only mystery I have in my department. Why the heir of Winterfell Industries would come to work for me is beyond comprehension." The project manager's heart wrung exquisitely at the mention of his father's company. His head ran wild with the sudden ring of a boy's laughter; images of two silhouettes burnt against the sunlight's golden stun. They were fleeting remnants of ghosts so far lost; he forgot whether they were real or not. Winterfell Industries was another universe ago. He'd long since abandoned that hope and yet he cringed every time the name heavily swung itself in the air. He still hated how it could make him sway around every imaginable phase of anger with no one any the wiser. "It... wouldn't say much of myself if I took a job at my father's business" he said quietly, robbing the director of eye contact. "It would be too easy."

"Perhaps" agreed Jerry, his eyes twinkling sympathetically in the pale London sunlight flooding through the window. "You punish yourself too much Robb. One day, you'll end up exactly like me."

"That would be an honour sir."

"Ha!" The older man stood up, gazing down benevolently. "Now, you know I'm on leave next week?"

"Yes, I got the email."

"Good luck my boy. Try not to murder Theon. Actually, maybe you should try to murder him; maybe it would motivate him to do his job better."

-xoxoxoxoxo-

The thin winter air snapped hungrily around Robb's ears, witness to the regal mess of fire and gold slowly descending across the horizon. The redhead smiled to himself as he watched the sun's last rays diffuse themselves across the water's soft clarity and bask in the park's countless knives of emerald grass. The late Friday afternoon air filled itself with the harmonic convergence of footsteps mindlessly echoing towards their destinations; of children mirthfully running about, innocently unaware of the earthly consequences. There was a sort of silent bliss to it all, a joy he was always grateful to take in. His earliest memories were here, hours upon hours of running madly towards his father only to be swooped up in the air and looking down to see the sturdy smile beam back up at him. Robb exhaled wistfully, swinging the strap of his bag around his shoulder. It seemed strange that he could be cut so deeply by something that never was; nonetheless the wounds wouldn't stop bleeding. It was pointless to dwell on the past, but the ghosts wouldn't stop their haunting.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The redhead pulled disentangled himself from the dance of his memories, turning his head to see the man next to him, helplessly breaking his face out into utter joy. The world suddenly became a hundred times more gorgeous as he smiled into chocolate eyes so warm and adoring. Butterflies gracefully choreographed themselves in his stomach, sending the colours of affection streaming through his blood. "Not as beautiful as it was a couple of seconds ago" he said, pulling his piece of happiness towards him. His lips softly pressed against the rough mat of near-night hair. "I missed you so much Snow Leopard" he whispered. If only time would stand still at this moment instead of any other. He felt the other man chuckle lightly in his embrace. "It's only been a week."

"It doesn't make it any easier Jon."

"Don't you keep saying that nothing in the world comes easy?" said Jon, reluctantly pulling away from his lover's arms. Robb pouted mischievously. "Yes, but still."

"If it makes you feel any better, I've missed you too" said the brunette quietly. He slipped his hand into the redhead's, fluidly piecing them together. Robb's heart skipped as he felt his lover's palm against his own. He was here, with him right now. What else on God's sweet Earth could matter? One final look at the splendid murder of the sun across the lake and he allowed himself to be led away, hand in hand with his beloved. "How was your week?" asked Jon, slowing down his pace so that they walked in synchronized steps. "Is Theon still giving you trouble?"

"I'll give you one guess" scowled the project manager, steeling himself with a breath of air. "That asshole invoiced the wrong stock to the customer and then has the nerve to-" Robb twisted his neck maliciously, much to Jon's amusement. His grip grew tighter around the brunette's palm, possessively intertwining their fingers together. "I'm not going to let that idiot ruin our weekend together" he muttered. "Tell me about your seven days. How's your thesis going?"

"It's getting there. I'm just waiting for some supplies to get in before we start the experiments" said Jon, turning his gaze towards the ground. "They made me a tutor for the first-year calculus class."

"That's great. Right?" Robb saw the uncertainty flash briefly across the student's face. He found it amazing that he could read Jon like clockwork and the other five billion people on the planet were faceless mysteries to him. True, he wasn't invested in them in the same he way he poured himself into Jon, but it was astounding that he moved beyond his own wariness to commit himself to something like this. Every day he fell a little deeper, every minute he found something new to long after when Jon wasn't there. "Love? What's wrong?"

"Robb, Sansa's in the class." The brunette unwounded his hand free of the redhead; walking a small, cautious circle around him to his front. Robb stared back at the chary cocoa eyes. Ice broke through his heady fantasy like daggers against flesh. The colours singled themselves to monotone red, if only for a moment. He wanted to scream, to react against the futility. He'd forgotten that his younger sister would be in her first year of university by now. Arya would be in ninth grade by now, Brandon in sixth and little Ricky in second. He'd missed so much, and there were still an eternity of moments to pass him by. The price of self-exile wasn't easy to forget, nor was it easy to swallow. "Oh."

"She's seems to be one of the top student's from what I've heard." Jon reclaimed possession of the manager's hand. "Takes after her big brother."

"Does she-"

"She doesn't know who I am" said the brunette quietly. Robb nodded curtly, feeling a lump form painfully in his throat. "Please don't tell her."

"Robb-"

"Please?" He didn't mean to sound so pleading, but the word unfastened itself from his lips before he even recognized what he said. The warm brown irises searched his own questioningly. The student's compassion had scorched him. No, this price was not easy to forget. He hadn't learned to be strong yet – he couldn't yet hear all these wonderful names without falling to pieces. A life built on anger was a myriad of paradoxes, and there he was: Robb Stark, caught in the middle of the grey. "Promise me Jon."

"I promise" scowled the brunette. "Though very reluctantly."

"Thank you love." The redhead pulled in closer, briefly masking his lips over the brunette's. Robb Stark, caught in the middle of it all. Robb Stark, the prodigal son who had thrown everything away. Robb Stark – the man who knew everything and not enough.

-xoxoxoxoxo-

"I always hate this place" whispered Jon, anxiously fiddling his fingers against each other. Robb smiled to himself, slowly comforting his boyfriend with a compassionate brush of his palm. An hour or so had passed and the redhead grew ever more grateful that his week had finally come to an end. Smiles and laughs were endlessly passed back and forth, giddying him up over his brief freeze. He still didn't know how to feel about Jon being in such close proximity to Sansa. It had only been two years since he'd last heard his sister's silvery laugh. Sansa – the most beautiful of reds. He'd forgotten nearly everything about her, but the red stayed.

The two of them had walked from the park to a nearby fish and chips restaurant for an early supper before driving to the tall, white monolith of a hospital where Jon's mother worked. Throughout the transit, Robb kept stealing glances at the quiet soul staring outside the window. Jon forever seemed to see the things that others couldn't, the subtleties in between the jagged contrasts of reality. Light in darkness, hope in hopelessness; the student could always seem to find them all. Robb admired him for that, partly because he himself didn't have the patience to see what was beyond that in front of his eyes. He had secretly hoped that his boyfriend might drop another hint about his sister: whether she was seeing anyone, how she found campus life, anything really. Jon chose instead to point out two Labradors flying across down the street in leaping bounds, with their owner clutching at their leashes for her very life. Robb smiled sadly to himself – Sansa would have to wait for a more opportune time.

"Alright, I'm going to get this to Mom" said Jon, nodding off to the polystyrene container in his hand. "She can't stand the food in this place."

"I think they do it deliberately" said the project manager darkly. "They keep you sick on purpose to siphon the money off you." A smile broke on the student's face. "Well, medical conspiracy Theonries aside, let me get this off to my mother and our weekend can begin."

"Don't be gone too long, love." Robb saw two identical twinkles freed from Jon's eyes as he left, bounding to elevator off in the main hallway and fell in love a thousand times over. He watched the student swerve out of the way of a group of nurses before finally hiding away in the steel box. His inner equilibrium immediately swung around the moon and back in loneliness, like some celestial noose. He hated these moments when he was truly alone with his thoughts: no Theon to chase after, no Jon to hold, not even a single number to test his head with; just him and the black, alone with the voices in his head who bled regret out him with their every word. "Stop being so damn childish" he muttered irritably to himself, swinging his eyes to his feet. He hadn't cut himself off from the past as completely as he'd liked, no, those ties had rusted but yet to be severed. It was an endless war of back and forth waged right in the middle of head, where the future's freedom valiantly fought against the ghosts of his past. It was less a case of winning, but more whose victory brought him the least discomfort. Mr Stark might have liked absolutes but he lived in greys.

"Robb?" The project manager shuddered at the warm call of his name. He knew that voice all too well. How long had it been since he heard that soft baritone wrapped around the word 'Robb'? Three years, four months and all of forever in between. His eyes grew wider at gentle cup of his shoulder. He didn't dare turn around; his body had all but betrayed him. His flesh screamed with joy, but his mind was unyielding in resolve. He had preparing for this every single night since he left home, but he wasn't about to let HIM in on that particular confession. A thousand times he dreamed of this moment, a thousand nightmares he had braved over this, and now the true test began. In less than three footsteps, the tall figure stepped out in front of him and Robb felt like six years old all over again. His lips thinned anxiously. "Hello father."

"Son." The voice grew sadder that time. The auburn brunette raised his eyes to meet the molten brown gazing solemnly right back. This face was older than the last time he saw it, more weathered than stern after three years. Thin runs of silver lined the deep mahogany hair and beard. A few more wrinkles had appeared, but the eyes remained the same. They housed the same disappointment they had for years, disappointment reserved especially for him. Robb had often Theonrized how deeply his father's sorrow in him ran, wondering how it was even possible for a father to feel so miserable over his own son. Love was clearly not without conditions, a secret Ned Stark had told his son without a single word.

"How have you been?" asked the older man. His eyes traversed against the angry stubbornness. Rob gritted his teeth together. "Fine. What are you doing here?"

"I came for a... I'm here on business."

"And which one of your children did you chase off for this 'business' this time?" asked the project manager quietly, eyes set alight. "Arya? Ricky?"

"I didn't chase you off Robb. You left on your own."

"You made it hard to stay."

"Are you really going to hold this over me forever?" asked the older man tiredly, heaving his chest out in an exhausted gust of breath. "So much anger over one silly argument?"

"Is that all it was to you?" asked Robb icily. "Some stupid fight we had? What about the twenty-one years before that?"

"I wasn't the father I should have been to you, and I'm sorry for that." Ned Stark shook his head. "I did the best I could. I apologize if that wasn't enough."

"Robb?" Both men turned around to see Jon stand uncertainly to their left, his face showing only the slightest hint of confusion amongst its blankness. Robb's eyes darted back onto his father as he headed towards the student, his eyes set alight with a melancholic blaze. "It wasn't" he muttered towards his father, lightly pulling his boyfriend by the hand. "Come on love."

The buzz in the hospital foyer kept on veering up and down in undulating waves, but Ned only had ears for his son's footsteps. Each one the younger Stark took further away from him resonated painfully with the scars between them. Ned was used to this game by now, but tonight, it took a new turn. Nausea rose from within the depths, clamouring around his mouth excitedly. _Love_ , he had called the other man. The older man saw Robb reach out for the other's hand, their fingers so lovingly coiled between each other. Ned smiled, worsening the queasiness. A sea of golden sunlight played out in his head, a child's laughter ringing from every corner. "I truly am sorry, my son" he thought, turning away from what he lost forever.

 **Hey guys, thanks for taking the time to read this. Please leave a review; I'd really like to know what you guys thought. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**We Are The Requiem**

 **Ned I: Pisces Setting**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _A Song of Fire and Ice_ or _Game of Thrones_.

The bitter heat of whisky laced across Ned's tongue as he carefully took the virgin sip of the evening through pursed lips. Cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air like poison. He took a long look around the pub from his secluded corner, watching patrons slip out words to coalesce into one lilt of meaningless chatter. How lucky they were to wrap themselves further and further into their own little worlds, to give into alcohol's sweet promise of temporary reprieve. The brunette had often wondered why drinking had held such little temptation in his eyes. It certainly wasn't for lack of trying – he could still remember sneaking into his father's drinking cabinet at family gatherings with his cousins as teenagers. They'd pour half a glass each of the first wine bottle they could reach before trading awkward smiles and downing their prize, only to cough and splutter the very next moment. How he wished he could surrender to the numbness, even just for one night. "Starks are too valiant for such behaviour" he thought acidly, recalling his father's words the one time he got caught red handed. He rewarded himself with another sip of molten brimstone. "Valiant – the best euphemism available for failure."

The brunette gently shoved his glass aside as his thoughts heavily turned to the evening's earlier events. Admittedly, two sips of whisky did little to dull the breathless melancholy he felt soaring through his head, but at least he had tried. He needed to feel this pain in all its blackened glory. Three years had done little to temper his son's anger: if anything, the immature blaze had evolved. Ned felt burnt and frozen all at once, paralyzed by his son's steely resolve to reject everything he had come to be. The elder Stark felt the hope die somewhere inside of him – reconciliation was nothing more than fool's dream, and at this point, who was a bigger fool than he? Ned smiled sadly as a burst of afternoon sunlight unfolded across his memory like a golden rose, crystallized by the warming notes of laughter falling softly into place. The nausea returned; an acquaintance that was fast becoming a best friend over the course of mere hours. "It wasn't supposed to be like this" he whispered softly. The weak apology fell onto no one's ears, not even his own. His guilt had completely deafened him.

"Lost in your own world again?" The businessman's head rose to follow the quiet voice, acknowledging the woman now edging her way into the seat next to his. Her hair fell in dark straw cascades about her shoulders, swaying ever so slightly from side to side as she positioned herself with the utmost attention. Hollows of beauty lined her cheekbones, leading down to the nude sensuousness of her lips. Her eyes ignited hauntingly as she modestly smirked backed at him. God, how he loved her eyes, those pools of infinity that stopped time whenever she graced him with them, so deeply sapphire they were almost violet. He was ashamed how easily rich red twirls gave way to midnight velvet, how perfection became so malleable every time she was this near to him. It was this very orbit into such divine madness that saved him from himself and made his secrets just that much heavier.

"You've been drinking" she said softly, her voice barely registering above the pub's bustle. "It must be a special occasion."

"Every occasion is special if it includes you, my love" he said quietly. "You should know that by now, it's been twenty or so years."

"Twenty-three to be exact, but it's not like anyone is keeping score Ned."

"My wife would, if she ever found out about us" chuckled the businessman darkly, his stomach twisting in anxious knots as his thoughts turned red once more. He attempted a change of topic to distract his remorse. "How is Arthur doing?"

"He's fallen head over heels for Sydney. He said he doesn't know why he never emigrated sooner. Madeline and the kids are... less keen about the whole situation."

"Typical Arthur; always leaving everyone fifty feet behind in search of his next big adventure."

"Well, my brother has always been liberal in love and even more so with his enthusiasm" said the woman, her lips curled into a honeyed grin. She reached out a hand, laying it tenderly across his loose fist. His heart instantly fluttered in a forbidden tattoo against its flesh and bone prison. "Ned, why am I here? We both agreed to lay low for a while. What happened?"

"Why does something have to have happened for me to see you?"

"You and I don't do small talk about the weather Ned. We do kisses in the moonlight when no one is around and keep our secrets hidden well inside the dark." She arched her brow placidly, gazing right through the pretence of smoke and mirrors he offered. "You've been working in that hospital for too long" was his curt reply. He hated how well they knew each other, like old scars marked with equal parts of fondness and fury. He couldn't bare her sympathy. "We have a problem" he muttered, lowering his gaze to the endless mahogany swirls of the table in front of him. "Something that we need to deal with urgently."

"Now THERE is the Ned Stark I know and love. What's the matter?" Ned bit his lip, nearly drawing out a crimson droplet. "What do you know about Jon's boyfriend?"

-xoxoxoxoxo-

Nine o' clock had barely died when Ned walked through the door of 45 Northern Avenue, his mind effortlessly lost within its own depths. Half-formed thoughts chased rabidly after each other across his head like senseless dogs, savagely biting into each other. He could feel his body growing weary of his struggle as he trudged along into the entrance hall. Today was the climax of a drama twenty-three years in the making and he had been responsible for every turn it took. Without knowing it, the businessman had pulled strings to strangle himself so elegantly. Every move he made was another karmic dagger he slid into himself, and now the pain had finally begun to show itself. The players had turned on him, but he had set them up to do so. "To think that I did this for love" he thought, feeling his strength ebb out of him. "The one mistake other people fight for... 'valiantly', I might add." He closed his eyes, wishing for the ground beneath him to open and swallow him into nothingness. "I wanted too much and now it's caught up with me."

A wet sniffle snuck itself into Ned's open palm, followed by an appreciative brush of rough tongue. The businessman turned his head to the side to see the Stark husky gaze adoringly up at him. The blue shards of her eyes shone wetly in the hall's dimmed light. The businessman afforded himself a brief smile in his darkness. "Hello Lady" he said softly, running his hand over her velvet fur. The husky gave a generous flourish of her tail before letting a quiet yelp escape her jaws, signalling for him to follow her. Ned complied with her request, his footsteps clicking off against the pristine ecru walls. He knew this routine well by now, he'd played it out too many times before. Clockwork didn't have enough precision as this – this was solid, something to always come back to... safe and suffocating all at once, he couldn't bear to face his own home, not after today.

Lady continued to pad her way through to the far end of the house, heading straight for the study. Ned noted the queer stillness delicately prancing about. Brandon and Ricky would be asleep by now, but there was usually venomous curses hurled between his daughters, both bold and under breath. He and Caitlyn did all they could to stem the hatred, but Sansa and Arya were as different as the sun and the moon and neither appreciated having to exist with the other. Silence like this was rare, though the businessman always loved the incandescent chatter from one room to the next. Having grown up with such an orthodox father, Ned had vowed to allow his own family to flourish in their own paths, nurturing each and every one of his beloved children. "Well, not ALL of them" he thought darkly. "Mistakes were made."

The tender pulse of light up ahead beckoned to him, pulling him into the study's hushed universe as if he were hypnotized. Concrete boundaries gave way to heavy lines of mahogany burdened with an innumerable army of books lined pristinely against each other. Notes of cherry wafted through the air, infusing with the warm leather of the two recliners at the corner of the room. The businessman grinned wearily to himself as he caught site of the waterfall of auburn silk hair peaking over the top of the chair. He crossed on over in soundless strides to let a kiss fall from lips against the rose-kissed supple cheek facing him. "Good evening, my sweet" he rumbled mildly, moving to take the seat opposite his wife. "I'm so sorry I'm late. Work was more complicated than expected." Caitlyn raised her head from the newspaper crumpled in her hands, throwing the brunette a benevolent smile, her eyes twinkling from behind her glasses. She summoned Lady to settle at her feet with a simple gesture of her hand. "Love, you're finally home. Do you want something to eat? There's roast lamb and potatoes in the fridge."

"Maybe later. Today has taken away my appetite."

"Rough time at the office?" The businessman considered her words carefully before slipping his head into a nod. He closed his eyes in an extended blink, his mind lost in the throes of guilty black velvet. "I could fall asleep in this chair." His eyes flew open. "Why are we blessed with such golden silence tonight?"

"It is rather peaceful, isn't it?" she agreed, setting her newspaper to the floor. "Sansa is gone to the movies with her friends and Arya is staying over at the Butchers tonight. You have to fetch her tomorrow morning at seven."

"If I'm still alive by then" mumbled the brunette, nearly losing himself to the ache declaring war against his body. He looked over, mesmerised by the redhead's clear aqua pupils sparkling in the study light. It was such a different shade of blue, so dependable and trusting. They had their passionate streaks, but for the most part, they were content to shine in all their limpid beauty. Ned's own liquid mahogany felt ashamed in comparison. He did not deserve such a saintly hue. "Dear, I-"

"Next week is Robb's birthday" Caitlyn interrupted, the smile fading from her lips. The brunette sighed wistfully, sinking further into his recliner. March 03rd had slipped from his memory with the night's earlier drama. Three years had taken that special day and turned it into another soulless passage of hours. "Oh."

"Ned... maybe we should go and see him. Just to say that he doesn't have to come back, but that we're here for him."

"I wish he were back here though" roused Ned. "He's our son; he should be here at home with us, with the people who love him."

"What do you think we should do?" asked the redhead uncertainly, her expression now shifting to maternal angst. Her hands wrung about each other lightly, a sign that Ned always picked up on when she was upset. Again, stillness fell between them before he spoke. He thought back to the pub, of near-violet eyes and ebony sheets; and even further back to the hospital. The nausea fluttered back into his stomach, forcing bitter truth to get caught in his throat. What was there to tell her? "I wish I knew" he said softly, closing his eyes to fight off the madness that threatened to drag him into oblivion. "I'd give anything to bring him home again... even my own life."

-xoxoxoxoxo-

London's Saturday sun was still newly orange in the morning sky as Ned's Mercedes hummed across the empty streets. Its owner could barely bring himself to look in mirror – sleep had been an elusive prey last night. Sansa returned home an hour after he did, blithering on and on about some handsome actor, but neither he nor Caitlyn to bring themselves to tell her that all that mattered was that she was home safe and that the shirtless twenty-something she was referring to could take a long walk off a short cliff for all they cared. After a quick check on the younger sons, the Stark heads finally headed off to the sweet sanctuary of slumber. Caitlyn had fallen asleep after three minutes or so, but the brunette had to pay a toll of three hours of restlessness. His son flitted in and out of his head, never once letting his conscience rest. "What a comedy of errors this has turned into" he muttered, feeling his molten frustration point its arrows inwards.

The Mercedes swerved left into a cul-de-sac generously covered with ivy before stopping before the Butcher house. He was actually ten minutes early, but Arya's free spirit never allowed her to be punctual, so he would be waiting for double that amount. There was a better use for his time, or at least a way to soothe his irritation. He shook his head sagely before pulling out his cellphone. "Dial Ash" he whispered into the speaker, as if someone might discover him if he spoke too loudly. His heart thudded dramatically with each ring, until the call finally connected. " _This is early, even for you._ "

"Good morning love. Did you sleep well?"

" _Well, given the time, I'm guessing about as well as you._ "

"If that is true, you should call in sick today. I don't want any dead patients on my watch; my conscience is already stretched to breaking point."

" _Way ahead of you darling, I already got one of my interns to cover for me_ _tonight_."

"Let me guess – the fetching one that you've got wrapped around your stethoscope?"

" _The very same, though I don't have the heart to tell him my love belongs to another. Besides, he's younger than Jon!_ " Ned shook his head again smilingly. Ash always made him feel better, even if she was just wit and voice for now. "Speaking of which, have you given any thought to my plan?"

Silence.

"Ash?"

" _I'm here Ned. I just... it's awfully risky. You're placing so much on one big Batman gambit._ "

"Love, if you have any other way out of this without us losing everything, I am all ears." The brunette fell in love all over again with the melodious sigh over the phone. " _I have a very bad feeling about this._ "

"We have to make this mistake right again."

" _Jon is not a mistake Ned. He is our son_." Ned gazed solemnly out of the car window, watching the early sunlight fall upon emerald blades of grass. For a single moment, he mistook blazing orange morning for late golden afternoon. Forgotten laughter rained once more, and the nausea rose like a tsunami. "I know."

 **Hello again! Thank you for taking the time to read this, see you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**We Are The Requiem**

 **Robb II: Matters of My Cliché Heart**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _A Song of Ice and Fire_ or _Game of Thrones_.

"You're staring" said Jon quietly, his eyes fixed on the TV. Robb rumbled out a quick chuckle from deep inside his chest, relishing the feel of the curling burnt locks against his skin. His fingers slowly rubbed down the arms draped so lovingly across his body. "It would be rude not to" he said, his voice barely cracking above a whisper so as not to disturb the serene headiness. "I've got the most beautiful thing in the world lying in my arms."

"If this were the thirties, I'd be flattered by that clichéd line. Of course, if this were the thirties, we'd be trapped in the closet and stuck in childless marriages." The project manager smirked, lowering his lips to his lover's bare shoulder. He let his senses reel as he tasted the heated skin, feeling his world collide from axis to axis in sheer ecstasy. If only time would be kind enough to freeze itself in this very moment so that this one slip between seconds could stretch out into forever. It was like this almost every weekend – fiery Friday nights that melted into gentle Saturday mornings and then reluctant Sunday afternoons. Sleep was prized, but not sought after. They preferred to rather create memories to get them through until the next two and a half days when they'd next meet. They'd come to love this rhythm, just the two of them lost in each other while the world continued turning.

"I'm starving" said the student, collapsing the air out of his body in one long sigh. "Do you feel like breakfast yet?"

"I don't know... I'm in the mood for something much more decadent" said Robb softly, stealthily snaking his fingers up to the milky silk of his lover's throat. With little more than the lightest of pushes, Jon's head effortlessly fell back on the manager's waiting torso. Molten cocoa eyes locked onto each other, framed hazily by the stream of early morning sunlight pouring in through the crack between the curtains. Heartbeats synchronized obsessively as their lusty tattoo drummed through the points where skin kissed skin. Clouds of breath melted lovingly into one another. Robb nuzzled his mouth against Jon's neck, once again losing himself to the hedonistic taste bursting across his tongue. A low moan told him his adoring lips were having the desired effect. The manager traced a single finger down the student's chest, feeling velvet skin stretch across taut body. He felt his lover shudder ecstatically in his hold as his hand wandered further down across tightened muscle. Jon laughed as he gripped the older man's forearms to stop his sensual afflictions. "That tickles!"

"Should I stop?" asked Robb, tracing an infinity symbol just below his lover's navel. He could almost feel the heady lightning crackle through the student's body. He smiled once more as he felt his lover turn his head sideways to plant a kiss against his chest. "What do you think?" The manager's fingers continued to dance across Jon's heaving plain of stomach, barely brushing above the lip of cotton boxers. Another restrained moan escaped the younger man's throat, only just rising above the TV's endless symphony of chatter. Further on he teased, keenly carving unspoken messages of desire into his canvas. The student began to twist his body, unable to bear the pleasurable torment his love captured him in. Robb dipped his hand beneath the boxer elastic, lightly wrapping his fingers around the student's growing erection. He felt the ebony brunette sharply draw breath, watching as the meltingly limpid brown eyes beneath him shut themselves in rapture. A trail of slowly drawn kisses led him to the student's ear as his thumb brushed across its prized treasure. "Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" he whispered, feeling yet another earthquake break across his prisoner. Words eluded Jon; his only response was a guttural growl rasping out of his mouth. The manager continued to worship the student's erection in undulating strokes. Like iron wrapped in the softest of satin, he handled his cherished trophy with only the most sinful of touches. The uneven groans and gasps blowing across his chest was sweet music to his ears. He mind was completely consumed by Jon, caring only for his love's gratification, to the heavenly echelon where his body would come apart in earthly joy until he saw stars. His lips wanted to taste that skin again, to feel heat pass back and forth between their bodies until they were one and the same. He could tell that the younger man was close – Jon's hips were arching upwards in lustful flicks to meet his strokes. "Let go for me love" he mumbled between his lips pressing down against the darker brunette's neck. "Come undone for me."

As if complying with his words, Jon arched his body up in one final thrust, filling the air with elated pants. The older man's hand ceased its worship, feeling wetness burst forth and seep through his fingers. He smiled to himself as he watched the student's boxers darken. Jon tilted his head upward, his chocolate eyes still swimming in bliss as his chest heaved for air. Robb's eyes twinkled down adoringly as he planted one final kiss on the student's nose. "Good?"

"Fucking amazing!" huffed Jon, flipping his body around until he was at eye level with the manager, sporting a contented grin about his lips. "Though, as usual, I'm going to have to borrow your boxers for the rest of the weekend."

"I aim to please" said Robb, returning the younger man's smirk. "Always."

"And to answer your earlier question Mr Stark, I do know."

"Do you, now?"

"It's the same amount as I feel for you. NASA could count all the stars in this pretty little universe of ours and it still wouldn't be as much as how I love you." Jon's grin grew wider as he arched his brow victoriously. "See, you're not the only one who can do cliché."

"My childless marriage applauds you."

-xoxoxoxoxo-

"You're eating bran flakes for breakfast?" asked Jon, laughing as he spread the bright yellow mess of scrambled eggs across his toast. "Wow, you really are old."

"I'm only eleven months older than you" said Robb, frowning at the student's exuberant attitude, settling back into his chair. The manager's apartment drowned itself in the scents of breakfast: toasted rye bread, strong black coffee and perfectly wet scrambled eggs. The morning had gotten slightly older, though the world outside was still slow to start. Sunlight bounced from corner to corner across the apartment's stylish minimalism – Robb wasn't one for cluttered living space. He much preferred the open spaces and the freedom that came with them.

"Eleven months is a long time" said the younger man sagely before taking a large bite of browned bread and egg. "That's enough to have a child and then regret the choices you made leading up to said offspring."

"Make up your mind Snow Leopard, am I in a childless marriage or do I have a family and regret?" asked the manager, lowering his eyes to the swirl of softened bran circling around in his bowl. Almost instantly, his stomach panged. Truth be told, regret was something he couldn't afford to have. Three years had done its part to paint his mind with the stubborn red of anger. It was hard at first, but he had learned to thrive off of it. If he couldn't make it on his own, then Ned Stark would be proven right, something that those two minutes at the hospital last night had reaffirmed for the younger Stark. Independence was friend, his fuel for living. Apart from Jon, there was no room for anything else. For better or worse, he had a slate in which to carve his own existence. Twenty-one years had slowly been erased, mere memories locked away and forgotten. Everything from now on was on his hardened shoulders – win or lose, life or death; Robb was on his own, something which wasn't liked or loathed, but simply adapted to.

"You're lost again" said the student quietly, reaching over to join his fingers across the space between Robb's. "Come back home."

"I'm sorry. It's nothing special, just random thoughts."

"And yet you've been living in your head ever since we came back from the hospital yesterday" said the student, pushing his plate aside. His grip on the older man's hand grew tighter with concern, matching the blank expression masked across his face. "Love, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I just want you to know that I'm here if you ever want to talk." He pulled his chair closer to his boyfriend. "I love you. Please don't pull away from me."

"Love you too" said the manager quietly, turning his head to lightly brush his lips against the student's forehead. Only Jon was allowed to crack his armour like this. It wasn't his battle to fight, but he didn't deserve to be in the dark like this. "I'm not pulling away, it's just... I've been dealing with this on my own for so long. I thought I had it under control, but after yesterday, everything just came rushing back." He sighed softly. "What do you want to know?"

"That man yesterday, he's your father isn't he?"

"Yes. Eddard 'Ned' Stark in all his glory" smiled the manager bitterly. "How'd you guess?"

"No one else would have wound you up quite so tightly. Not even Theon."

"You know me too well Snow Leopard" said Robb, gently rejecting his bowl of cereal further into the marble expanse of the kitchen counter. "I didn't expect to see him again after I left home. I suppose he wasn't planning on it either, but it still caught me off my guard." He slowly swung his eyes up to meet Jon's, feeling his heart tighten behind his chest. The thought of all those suppressed years made him want to tear at his own flesh and scream his frustration out at the world. All those binds of control he had conditioned into himself began to dissolve. The grieving wolf inside howled blatantly with despair, letting his cry fill every sullen void of the older man's being. "I was a different person before I met you" he said slowly, gripping at his boyfriend's hand for solace. "On the inside, I mean."

"How so?"

"My father is very proud of our family name and all the prestige that goes with it. When I was born, I was heir apparent – there was no place for mistakes of any kind."

"It must have worked. You're pretty damn perfect from what I can see." Robb shook his head smilingly at the compliment. "That's two to my one, love."

"Yes, I'm considering a career as a writer for Valentine's Day cards" grinned Jon boyishly. "Go on."

"I was never Robb, always 'Ned's son'" continued the manager softly, rubbing his thumb across the student's open palm. "I was a good kid, always doing what was expected. Top marks at school, captain of the cricket and soccer teams, head boy: I lived to make my father proud of me, but I wasn't happy. Of course, it wasn't much help that the bastard was so incredibly distant. He had time for everyone else in the world, but never for me."

"I'm sorry love" whispered the student, tilting his head against his lover's shoulder as he wrapped his free arm around the manager's waist. The auburn brunette was grateful for the comfort he offered so unconditionally, sinking back into his hold. "What changed?"

"I met you."

"No I'm serious, what changed?"

"I met you" repeated Robb, allowing himself a small chuckle. "Remember that party?"

"The one that Dany forced me to go to? Where I didn't know anyone and I sat with the same can of Coke in the living room corner for two hours until a handsome and equally awkward stranger joined me for small talk?" asked Jon, a gleeful inflection present in his voice. "I'll never forget."

"We weren't together yet, but that party made me realise that I fell in love with you. You were my little secret that kept me going." Another sad smile played upon the older man's lips. "I was happy to live in the shadows, but when the questions came about why I didn't have a girlfriend, I knew I had to come clean."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Terrified. I thought they'd disown me once I told them, but I couldn't keep lying to them. I still wanted to make them proud of me but I wanted one piece of my life to myself. I decided to tell Mom first, you should have seen how excited she was. She hugged me for over an hour straight."

"Your father wasn't as approving?"

"I don't know. I never told him" said Robb quietly. "I went to his office with every intention of doing so, but I never got the chance. It was after work, so I knew he'd be alone. I remember knocking, but no one answered. I opened the door and saw him screwing another woman." Jon let out a dulcet whistle, tightening his hold on his boyfriend. "That must have been... unexpected."

"They didn't notice me, so I left the office and waited for him to come home. Mom had taken everyone out for Arya's birthday, but I made up some excuse and said that I was feeling sick. He came home and I ripped into him" whispered the manager acidly. "I mean, how could he do that? All that posturing about our family name and honour, all the sacrifices I made just to make him happy and he's off fucking some other woman?"

"What did he say?"

"He said he didn't know what I was talking about, like I was the insane one, the fucking hypocrite. He just stood there and lied through his teeth. I thought this man was a god, someone I wanted to be, someone I wanted to be admired by, but..." Robb let his sentence hang uncertainly in the air for a moment, feeling his throat run dry with misery. These old wounds stung anew now, new blood flooding across aged scars. It hurt like hell, even with Jon there at his side. This betrayal was no stranger to his mind; it had played across it a thousand times before. He forced himself to look at the hollowness within, to return its darkened gaze with a pained resolution. "I gave up everything I wanted to be for a man who turned out to be nothing more than regal lies" he muttered, hanging his head in defeat. "All for nothing."

"Did you tell your mother?"

"No. I could never put her through that. She loves him too much. It would tear the family apart if anyone knew. I decided to keep his secret and take off. All I left were letters for Mom and each of my siblings to say that I couldn't take the pressure anymore. I don't know what lie he must have spun to cover his tracks, but it's a safe bet I got thrown under the bus." The manager turned to cross his lips with his boyfriend's fine ebony curls. "And you pretty much know the rest of the story."

"I'm sorry my love."

"Don't be. I lost them all a long time ago."

-xoxoxoxoxo-

Saturday's morning and half its afternoon had passed by without much drama. The lovers had decided to skip lunch and take a walk through the streets, trying desperately not to lose themselves as they weaved throughout the sentient masses flooding through the capital's veins. The zesty spring air still carried a hint of winter's last bite as it buffeted throughout the city, in utter violation of the midday sun coursing its path across weekend sky. Robb had found himself in an introspective mood despite the good weather, crossing corridors in his head while he absorbed the hustle and bustle of the people around him. Giving up his secrets to Jon wasn't easy and it was even harder to live down now that he had revisited the shards of himself that were filled with only anger and hurt. He noticed the student hung around closer to him than usual, as if afraid he might shatter if he wasn't paying attention for even a second. They'd held hands from the moment they left the older man's apartment, parting only when they'd run into some of Jon's friends from varsity. The auburn brunette had put on a weak smile but his exhaustion did not permit him to take the charade further when they invited the couple out for a round of beers at a nearby pub. A polite excuse was twirled out of nowhere, though the surprise came in when his boyfriend had actually gone along with it. "I see them all the time. It's actually good to spend a day or two away" was the smiling excuse to the manager's frowningly bemused query as to why the rejection. "Besides, the weekend is our time."

It was around three when they finally returned to the apartment, their hair and jackets lovingly tousled by the outside wind. Jon had opted to lie down in the bedroom whilst the manager collapsed himself onto the couch in front of the lounge television. An old _Simpsons_ episode played out silently before him, but Robb's thoughts were painfully elsewhere, unable to concentrate on anything but the tight winding inside his chest. He hated to admit it, but his father had unknowingly shaped him into the resolute loner he was today. Everything he did, every choice he made was to escape Ned Stark and his silver-tongued falsehoods. He had defined himself so completely in his anger that there wasn't room for anything else – and he might have been content with that had he kept his darkness where it belonged. Jon, sweet Jon, had brought the light of day into the forgotten parts of his anger, the subtle notes in between the rage where he had zealously erased the happier times to walk on his own path. His mother's teary smile when he come out, Ricky and Brandon chasing each other around the house, even Sansa and Arya's constant bickering; how he missed it all. Anger had robbed him of those sentiments. "I miss all of them" he thought wearily, closing his eyes as he surrendered to the war inside of him. "More than I should."

"Love? Wake up." The older man's eyes flew open at the soft plea, beholding his boyfriend kneeling beside him, cellphone in hand. He creased his forehead as he turned himself across the couch to face him. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. Just listen and don't say a word." The student's thumbs flew across the screen as he dialled a number before activating the speaker. Three rings went passed by with the confusion growing ever more present on the manager's expression. After the fourth ring, the caller finally picked up. " _Hi Jon._ "

"Hey Sansa, how's it going?" Robb's heart beat thudded excitedly in its prison. Her ethereal smile, her silken crimson tendrils, he remembered it all. Her voice had gained a lilt of lilacs and summer, maturing its angelic beauty into womanhood. " _Great. It'd be even better if I could figure out this calculus tutorial. You wouldn't happen to be calling to give me the answers, would you?_ "

"Now what kind of tutor would I be if I did that?"

" _A good one!_ " Robb watched Jon break into a short laugh, his chuckle mingling beautifully with Sansa's. His chest wrenched tightly against itself as all the laughs and tears bloomed forth from his memory, filling the spaces where the pain had avoided. Never more in three years had he felt such an intense yearning to be part of something bigger than himself. His esteemed isolation had always gone unquestioned, always happy to seal himself off from everything, until now. Sansa had no idea how her few words had burst into her elder brother's soul, like melodic sunshine piercing through morose nothingness. His eyes misted over, stinging with the birth of lost tears. Words blanked themselves, his voice was useless. He wanted to belong once more.

"The trick with Professor Luwin is that he's too lazy to set anything different from his notes" said Jon, taking Robb's hand gently into his own, as if sensing the auburn brunette's suffering. "Just read through what he went over in class and you'll be fine."

" _If you say so_ " came the musical sigh, twisting itself ever further into Robb's splintered being. " _See you Tuesday afternoon?_ "

"Sure. Cheers." Jon ended the call before lightly kissing his lover on the top of the forehead. "Feel be- woah!" His body jerked in surprise as the older man bolted upright and reached out to collide their bodies together in the most grateful of embraces. Robb lost himself against the student's thin cotton shirt and loose curls of midnight hair brushing against his cheek. In the space of small moments, he'd felt the infinity of wanting, possessed by its tempting shiver. He'd been flung to eternity and back, and wanted to do it all over again. His throat pulsed out painfully, but he managed to hoarsely mumble out two simple words that fluttered in the air between him and Jon with all the love he could muster. "Thank you."

 **Hope you all enjoyed that! See you next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**We Are The Requiem**

 **Theon I: Codeine Dreaming**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _A Song of Ice and Fire_ or _Game of Thrones_.

 _Echoing rain._

 _Soft drops of heavenly music pattering off in the distance. He couldn't see it but he could feel every drop ripple through his very being as it embraced the waiting earth. His body was naked, swathed across the bed so carelessly. His eyes slowly opened to this world, absorbing the heady shades of blue cascading across the walls. He heard a heartbeat bloom into creation somewhere off in the distance. He wasn't sure if it was his own or someone else's, but it didn't matter either way. His body had surrendered to the opulent rush slowly colouring its way through his veins, fusing all his senses into one hedonistic nirvana. Sweet sleep beckoned to his mind like an old lover, a rather unnecessary paralysis in his opinion – forever wasn't enough to feel this high and he was already in love with it. Pain and sorrow were mere ghosts of dreams long forgotten. Sereneness had possessed him completely and he wanted it to never let go._

 _He closed his eyes again. No longer was there 'he'... just a solid manifestation of bliss._

" _Theon? Wake up Theon." He didn't want to wake up though. He wanted to drift listlessly in this cerulean paradise. "No."_

" _Please? I'll make it worth your while." Once more, languid brown circles graced themselves into consciousness. Eyes of the most beautiful aquamarine met his own. A face gradually swam into view around them. Short auburn brown locks he could get lost in if he were willing to leave his tranquil abode, and a smile carved from the stars themselves. The heartbeat flowered once more, this time resonating beautifully across the unseen rain. "Welcome Sleeping Beauty" murmured the alabaster god. His voice made the skies themselves cry out with joy. Theon almost felt ashamed of his own lack of divinity... almost. "Robb, you're not real."_

" _Of course not" said the brunette, a knowing smirk curling upon his rose-petal lips. He lowered his bare form onto Theon's, a satin whisper of lust. "Where's the fun in reality?"_

" _Leave me alone."_

" _Now, is that what you really want?" said Robb quietly, gently thrusting his hips forward into the smaller man's awakening erection. His grin grew wider as the rhythmic thud sound off again somewhere in the distance. "I know your secret."_

" _You know nothing Robb Stark."_

" _I know that the one thing that is real in all of this is your love for the real me." Robb lowered his lips down to Theon's ear, letting his words drip gently into the smaller man, laughing softly as they broke across him in quakes of ecstasy. "Tell me you don't feel like you're on fire when I'm near you."_

" _I don't."_

" _You may fool yourself with your lies Greyjoy, but I know better. I'm the reason you get excited inside when he pays any attention at all to you."_

" _I... I..."_

 _Robb turned the shorter man's head to face him with just a finger. Theon shuddered at his touch, feeling his skin shaking off its slumber. His body fluently betrayed him to his captor. "Let me go" he begged hoarsely. "Please."_

" _We both know that's not going happen. You might as well give in" whispered the lusting phantom. His lips journeyed closer. Theon could almost taste the bewitching magic that they possessed. The heartbeat burst closer this time, serenading the air with desperation. He couldn't hear the sweet rain anymore nor feel its fall from the saddened heavens. The serenity deserted his soul as Robb drew ever closer. "No..."_

"NO!" Theon felt his torso jerk upwards from his bed, pulling him upright into the comforting stillness of the midnight air. Endless blue dissolved to darkness and whimsical rainfall to fluttering gasps for air. A quick run of the hand through his crushed ebony hair calmed him down from his euphoric anxiousness. Rampant thuds of heartbeat against his chest slowly descended from their entropic madness as clarity evaporated the last of the reluctant obscurity clouding urgently around his mind. "Thank God" he whispered, his chest still heaving for honeyed oxygen. A bolt of dull pain throbbed across from hip, forcing his expression to contort into a brief wince. He looked down at the bandage taped tightly to the side of his waist, decorated in small splatters of crimson. It still clung closely to him, a mark of his obligation as a Greyjoy son. Theon cursed darkly as he threw the comforter from his shirtless body. "Damn you Dad, this is your fault."

The raven-haired man slowly roamed around his apartment, fearing that the infinite ocean of blue might return if he let his guard down for even a second. The only disruption to the smothering silence was the shuffle of his lonely footsteps, bouncing quietly off the walls. Midnight – the hour of seamless transition where the end of ends gave way to beginning. It belonged neither here nor there, it simply existed: a promise that today's suffering would end and a new day would dawn. He often felt that bitter sentiment applied to him as well, an ends to some sort of mean, never belonging to anyone but the miserable reign of use. "No family to speak of, no joy at work... not even someone to love" he thought, pausing his small journey to face the vast expanse of the balcony window in the living room. London twinkled from behind the glass, its secrets loosely ravelled between the barren rooftops and the gleaming diamonds embedded into the velvet night. No doubt there were people out there tonight, eagerly wasting away the night until the red gift of the sunrise. Each of them had a niche to belong to, people to call their own. They fitted in somewhere in the beautiful chaos of the world. "They don't drift about aimlessly." He pressed his forehead against the window's soothing coolness, closing his eyes as he felt himself sway as another throb of pain emanated from his hip. "Still, I suppose someone has to do it."

Theon felt a sigh escape his lips as he left the window and cut a steady path to the cellphone charging innocently on the kitchen counter. He'd regret this later, but regret seemed like a good waste of a couple of hours instead of existential confusion. He grimaced as he scrolled through the call logs, finally finding the number he sought after. Rolling his eyes at the symphony of rings, he waited.

" _ICU ward, how may I help you?"_

"Hi, I'm calling about Billy Greyjoy? I'm his son."

" _Ah, yes, Theon right? Your dad's still under sedation for the pain. He's been stable since the surgery yesterday. We'll start testing on Monday to see if he responds well to your bone marrow sample._ "

"Thanks. I'll call tomorrow to check in again." He didn't know why he bothered – just another part of his obligation. It wasn't as if the old man was even remotely grateful for what he had done, it was just expected, despite the arrogant contempt burning in his father's eyes and the million words of hate burning between them.

" _Would you like to leave a message for him?_ "

"No. That won't be necessary, thanks" said the dark brunette quietly. He muttered a perfunctory goodbye before hanging up. The pain snaked out of its lair once more, forcing him to grab onto the counter as he put his cellphone down. Sunday had barely begun and already he hated it, just like every other day. A frustrated groan blew out of his lips as he limped back into his bedroom, the pale glimmer of the night tattooed lovingly across his bared skin. The rough outline of his haven loomed invitingly in the dark, though it was shapely bottle of painkillers on his nightstand that caught his despairing hazel eyes. He gingerly placed himself across the mattress as he reached towards it, letting out another loathing huff as he did. His mind flooded with azure, forcing his heartbeat to resonate out across his body. Light sweat broke across forehead as his stomach twisted anxiously on itself. "I don't want you" he muttered, slamming the bottle back into place. His words faded out into nothingness, reaching the ends of his hollow kingdom. There was no place for him but the empty spaces in between everyone else and he knew it, no matter how much he rebelled against that caustic truth. Theon Greyjoy was too rough around the edges to fit into this sanguine life. "You can't make me care for you."

" _I've already won this war Theon. You can lie to yourself until the stars begin to bleed, but you can't change that_."

-xoxoxoxoxo-

Sunday's namesake set the morning sky ablaze in regal hues of pink, orange and red as it blossomed over the horizon. The city slumbered for the most part, with a few early stragglers taking the early shift to awaken the capital as they lined up across the labyrinth of traffic lights in their metallic beetles of cars or simply strolled along with the bite of the early morning air. The breeze tussled playfully through the engineer's feathered locks, pulling his senses out of their stagnant reverie. He looked on as two joggers made their way around the street corner, their loud neon jumpsuits igniting his cynical detachment. He'd won the battle for somnolence for two hours after his call to the hospital, though insomnia had the last laugh. Fears of Robb Stark and his holy perfection had mockingly played through his head for the endless seconds that slipped on by through his fingers like water. Eventually, he surrendered, dragging his exhausted self to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower, signalling the mundane beginning of the week. He had point blank refused to return to blue, not because he was afraid of what tortures his phantasm Stark might conjure up for him, but because he'd be destroyed by emptiness of wanting something that was not his to ask for. "I am my own worst enemy" he thought, turning his back to the eldest rays of the dawn. "It's not him I'm fighting. He doesn't even know me."

He slowly limped back into the living room, carefully spreading himself down onto the awaiting couch. The pain hadn't lessened since he awoke from his sapphire prison and it was getting harder to ignore. It was beyond silly to be scared of something that wasn't real, but nevertheless, his heart still twisted up nervously whenever Robb's angelic visage wandered haphazardly into his vision. The manager had been born into the world with gold and silver blessings at his feet. Prominent family, top job – Prince Stark had all his earthly wants catered for in abundance. In comparison, the Pauper Greyjoy stood lost amongst a crowd of faces. There was nothing special about his story: he fought tooth and nail to get through life and escape his inherited disapproval. How many tales had there been before his? Memories of a dead mother and an alcoholic father, with just the right amount of elusive siblings to acidly singe his destined lot. Bare walls in a passage that never ended, those were his and his alone.

A perturbed exhalation of breath blasted through his lips as he coldly surveyed the vast white expanse of the ceiling. Robb had coloured his world in all the wonderful hues of envy, and the worst part of it all was that the beloved man hadn't the slightest clue. To him, Theon was a fool to be tolerated, a jester amongst the bigger players. Although the engineer was two years older than his manager, he was always in awe of how easily he handled everything. Wisdom and capability were his trademarks, ideals that he wasn't afraid to stamp out on his team. What the older man wouldn't give to taste that utopia just once, to feel the gratifying sunlight beam through his darkened world. The silent ache on his hip reminded him that it did not do well to live in dreams when reality was always lying in wait for him to crash spectacularly back into his sobering earth. Rather, he would have to be content with his hollowed lot and make the most of something that wasn't there. Robb Stark would never know the nightmarish torments he had suffered, or that he was willing to erase what little he had become just to feel like a part of that gated world. "A part of you" he mused resentfully, wincing as another painful jolt rang through his side. "Screw this."

The raven brunette forced his body out of its relaxed state and hobbled over to the bedroom, cursing his father with every breath he took. Brittle light cracked into the room as he found his prize lying in wait on the nightstand. He paused, feeling his heart cling anxiously to his chest. His head was momentarily hypnotized by the calming shadows of blue he saw; a sea of cobalt roses coming into bloom with the jealous spring. Dare he drown? Or would this be his own little secret he could lose himself to in every heartbeat? "I am not afraid" he murmured, praying to the deaf heavens that his words were true.

-xoxoxoxoxo-

" _Welcome back, lovely." Theon felt the syrupy whisper echo right down to depths unknown within him. The rain was back too, comforting him with its listless descent down to a place he couldn't care less for. Blue twirled like ivy around his naked body, pulling him into its undulating prison. A heartbeat boomed off somewhere around him. He was glad that it had returned to its mellow state, for now at least. Here lay his kingdom of empty spaces, of things forever lost to him – his proud little secret he kept hidden. "Yes" he whispered, feeling his head soar deliriously into this hell. There was no running away this time; there wasn't even a point in trying. He carried this world around with him wherever he went; it was bound to catch up with him sooner or later. Why not surrender now and save himself from the hurt later on? "I'm back."_

" _Couldn't stay away, huh?" The murmur was closer this time. He could almost feel the heat from the person lying next to him. A finger slowly traced formless patterns on his hip, sparking pleasure where pain should have been. Once more, his body readied itself for betrayal. "I could have" smirked the older man bitterly. "But where's the fun in that?"_

" _Touché Theon. You learn quickly." The raven brunette turned to his side, his eyes hopelessly searching the god next to him. Robb's skin basked in the ripples of blue, his smile was deviously coy as he continued to tease his prisoner with the touch of his bare finger against the raven brunette's apprehensive skin. His hand lightly spread across the older man's chest, taunting the steady heartbeat budding far away. "You know I'll tear you apart, right?" he asked softly, his voice like silk against Theon's ears. "There's no hope for you to get over this."_

" _There will be. Someday I'll look at you and it won't be so bad."_

" _You're quite the optimist."_

" _Ever" replied the darker haired man dryly as he turned his vision away from his captor. No longer did he feel the worry suffocate him like before. The melancholy resignation he wore allowed him to breathe freely and utterly surrender to his torture. Of course, he wanted to escape, but where would he go? Freedom was only one part; he was missing the one that came after that. He was made from nothing and to nothing he would return. There was no light to illuminate the dark, no saviour to rescue him from himself. This illusion was the closest he could get to his desires, to drink from his innermost fantasies and feel their illicit thrills dance across his body. He was too weak to fight, too willing to renounce his pride in the name of some semblance of peace. "You've won" he said slowly. "You always have."_

" _Oh, I already knew that" said Robb mischievously, steadily running his fingers up and down the older man's chest in feather-soft touches. "There's something else I want now."_

" _What could the great Robb Stark want from a lowly beggar?"_

" _To destroy him" whispered the auburn brunette, letting his hand wander down south. Theon shuddered as he felt his erection come to life in the prince's loving hold, shutting his eyes against the carnal waves breaking upon the shores of his being. He felt the younger man softly brush his thumb against his pole before he let his hand rise and fall against the velvet steel of his lust. Over and over he felt his thoughts break into wordless impulses, unable to form even a coherent sound in response to his adoring assault. His pleasure began to build, summoning up from his groin and spreading into the far reaches of blue surrounding him. He was close... he wanted to fall off the edge._

" _Tell me what I want to hear and I won't break you."_

" _I've already broken myself, you bastard" groaned the engineer, his body lost in the sweet pleasures of anguish and ecstasy. "What more do you-"_

" _Tell me your secret Theon." The edge loomed nearer._

" _No!"_

" _Tell me." So close._

" _You already know, damn it!"_

" _Say it." He was falling._

"I love you."

As blue faded to reality once more, Theon Greyjoy felt his eyes sting with shameful tears falling across his cheeks. King of nothing, lord of the void... traveller of the in between.

 **Hope you all enjoyed that! See you next chapter!**


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